Getting There

On the last leg of our two-and-a-half-hour journey to the Laurel Tree in Utopia, the hills are dark green with the growth of evergreens while ancient knurled limbs of long-dead oaks grasp at the blue above, looking in all their twisted gray glory like the darkest hour of a gothic novel. The vivid brilliance of the green of spring is laced through it all. The abundant displays of April’s bright yellow wildflowers have all but vanished. A slender lone stem peeks up here and there along the highway.

Looking at Michael, I tell him, “I’m not counting on seeing poppies at the Laurel Tree this year.  I think we’re too late.” He pats my hand and smiles, knowing how much I love this pilgrimage to see the poppies each Texas spring.

The Laurel Tree

After our last thirty minutes of the drive through the bucolic countryside, the wide gate of the Laurel Tree welcomes us with open arms. And there are poppies! Acres and acres of glorious poppies. A breathtaking sea of red.

The parking lot is full, and I feel grateful I have reservations—hard to get even two months ago. The only thing I want to do is fall into all of that redness, but first, a feast of a different kind awaits, and the hour of our lunchtime reservations is bare minutes away.

The Dining Area

The interior of the Laurel Tree is bright and cheerful, cozy and warm, sporting the colors of southern France. Tables are topped with cloths from Provence–a fresh flower in the center of each one. Antiques are tucked in every corner and against every wall. Somehow, Provence has found its way to the edge of the Texas Hills in this place appropriately called Utopia.

Our View

Sitting at our corner table, we are in the ideal position to survey—after a decade of lunches—our very familiar surroundings. The giant arms of the centuries-old oak tree that embraces the treehouse’s private dining room takes up the entire span of the wall of windows in the back of the room. A welcoming stone fireplace, filled with the warmth of flickering flames during the winter months, graces the center.

Lunch

I pick up today’s menu, mentally savoring the luncheon to come.  Michael uncorks our BYOB bottle of Becker Cabernet Reserve—a 2012 vintage from their exclusive Library Collection. It is soft as velvet, and I could easily drink it without any accompanying food. But I won’t.

Service at the Laurel Tree is always fast, friendly and efficient. You are never left waiting for anything, and all needs are met with a smile. Even at a table for six, everyone’s food arrives at the same time and is placed before you in unison with six servers in attendance.

The Food

The menu sings of spring! After choosing New Zealand lamb chops with a citrus sauce over a Scottish salmon filet with fresh mango and lemon butter, we take a bite of the edamame hummus atop a crisp wonton triangle.

Immediately Michael says, “This is GOOD!  What is it?” Smiling, I explain. Then we toast each other. We toast the day, life, and our good fortune. We toast good food. I secretly toast serendipity and our ability to fall into magical places.

The fiesta soup (an ode to San Antonio’s seven-day celebration next week) is redolent with the fresh flavors of vegetables that have first been roasted and then coarsely pureed. Laurel’s soups are always so tasty and perfectly seasoned—this one is no exception. I have never reached for the salt shaker when I dine at the Laurel Tree.

Our Entree and Dessert

After two courses, Michael and I work our way through the cooling, crunchy, triple raspberry terrine dessert—sorbet, sauce and fresh raspberries—also filled with complimentary sorbets, and crowned with a swirl of crunchy house-made granola. It is light and delicious–a great ending to our pre-Easter meal of tender spring lamb and earthy purple potatoes.

The owner and chef of the Laurel Tree, Laurel Waters, stops by to chat. I try to unearth her secret of the source of the lamb chops we ate and the ingredients and method to the addictively delicious ginger-citrus sauce that kissed the meltingly tender lamb. Laurel corrects me when I guess wrong, but I think I am going to have to keep guessing. Maybe a series of sauces consisting of a lot of trial and error is in my future.

The Glory of Spring

When the last crumb is devoured and final drop of wine consumed, Michael and I both grab our cameras, heading out the door to the pièce de résistance—the springtime gift of a sea of red and green.

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Main Street Utopia

After a bare hour of relishing the magic of spring, we return to our car, venturing into town following the lure of antiques from France, at Main Street Utopia, another business owned by Chef Laurel Waters and her Mother.

Normally I leave Michael on the front porch, rocking away while I try hard to decide which items to spend my money on–but today he disappears.

My purchases made–glasses I want but don’t need–I carry my packages outside to the car, where Michael seems to have discovered his own antique jewel.

The magic doesn’t stop! The journey home is delicious!

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Read More

To discover other eating adventures at the Laurel Tree in Utopia, click on the following links. Lunch in the Tree House and Utopia by Way of Medina

The Laurel Tree

18956 N 187, Utopia, Texas 78884

Lunch and Dinner, Saturday’s Only: Lunch: 11:30 am –  1:00 pm, Dinner: 6:30 pm –  8 pm. Children under the age of 6 are discouraged at dinner–dressy casual attire is recommended. Cash, checks or credit cards accepted. Utopia is dry, so BYOB – no corkage fee

Reservations for the Restaurant Dining Room 

Due to limited seating, reservations are mandatory. Call 830-966-5444, and leave a voice message mentioning the date you would like to come, the number in your party, and time of your arrival. Laurel will confirm your reservation with a return call, so it is important to leave your telephone number.

The Laurel Tree does not take reservations by email.